


Some Nights are Easier than Others

by causetheturtle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Ezra Bridger Needs a Hug, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25829584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/causetheturtle/pseuds/causetheturtle
Summary: For Ezra Bridger, some nights are easier than others.A little one-shot I wrote set after Rebels season 4, with Ezra dealing with the aftermath of his experiences in the rebellion and fighting in a war at such a young age while being isolated from the rest of The Ghost crew on his mission.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Some Nights are Easier than Others

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that I thought up at like 3am after re watching the Rebels season 2 finale cause I was incredibly upset and MY BABIES ALL DESERVED BETTER. I also haven't had anyone else read this though before posting so it could just be a load of garbled thoughts that make no sense to anyone but me.

For Ezra Bridger, some nights are easier than others.

Some nights, he falls into a simple, dreamless sleep. These nights he gets to slip away into a world of nothingness, into a land of no stress. A place where he doesn't need to worry about his past, present or future. A world of simplicity and ease, where nothing and no one can hurt him. He doesn't think of the friends he left behind - doesn't stress about their safety - or the old enemies that may come back to haunt him. Those nights are the rarest, but the easiest, as when he wakes up he can continue on his mission with little distractions.

Some nights his dreams are filled with melancholy. He remembers a happier time. Playing with his parents as a small child, the taste of his mothers cooking, the smell of the house he grew up in - a time before the Empire where Lothal was a quiet, simple and happy place. He dreams of his early days on the ghost, where every new adventure was strange and exciting, where being surrounded by people who cared for him was novelty. He dreams of his early Jedi training with Kanan; Sabine and Zeb 'helping out' by throwing rocks at him as Hera smiled fondly from the sidelines. He thinks of watching Sabine paint - covering everything she could get her hands on in bright colours and swirling patterns - or listening to music with Zeb and chasing after Chopper when he got just _a bit_ too annoying to deal with. Or, he could be with Hera learning how to fly among the stars, her encouraging words helping him carry on even when he was most frustrated. Or he's with Rex, learning how to properly and accurately use a blaster so that he doesn't need to rely on his light-saber at all times, or which tactics are best to use in battle. Maybe he's with Ahsoka, calmly offering her advice on his fighting technique and adjusting his grip around his blade ever so slightly. Sometimes he dreams of the rare days and nights where they'd lay down their weapons and wouldn't need to prepare for an upcoming battle. The early mornings in the kitchen, eating their way through breakfast together, the days spent running around fields on Lothal and the long nights spent listening to Ahsoka, Rex and Kanan's tales of the Old Republic and the great Jedi Order which ended in them all slinking off to bed, Kanan and Hera thinking that they were so sneaky when moving into each others rooms at night. He dreams of the time he spent surrounded by his family, the one that was created out of broken, mismatched beings and bound together through fire and hurt, but brought each other more happiness than they'd ever thought possible. Those nights aren't easy as he wakes up the next morning weighed down by memories of happier times, times that he'd never been able to return too because of the path he chose and that was chosen _for him._ Those dreams can also make the next mornings easier as it reminds him of _why_ he's doing what he's doing, who he's doing this for and gives him hope he may see those people again... or some of them at least. Those nights and the mornings that follow are bitter sweet. 

Some nights are worse. Some nights he enters into a fitful sleep that's filled with fighting and red blades. He thinks of his parents being torn away in the nights, reaching for him and yelling his name. He dreams of wandering the streets of Lothal - cold and hungry - getting caught stealing food by the Empire because it was warmer and safer in the holding cells than it was outside in the open. He remembers the sinking feeling of being totally outmatched by a superior foe and of feeling helpless in the face of danger. He remembers the guilt of knowing that Maul had tricked and deceived him and that he'd practically led his friends into a slaughter. He dreams of Vader's menacing form above him, threatening to end his existence and truly fearing he was about to die. He sees Kanan being led towards him by Chopper, unbalanced and a mask over his face. He remembers leading Kanan back to The Phantom since he couldn't support himself. He sees Ahsoka discarding him and throwing him towards the ship and the door sliding shut in front of his eyes. He remembers folding in on himself in Kanan's arms as they flew away from the terror they'd encountered, unsure of the fate of his friend and mentor, the Sith holocron glowing in his hands and whispering seductively for him. He dreams of Sabine's anguished yells of how her family disowned her, how The Empire used weapons she designed against her own people and how she would never be forgiven. He dreams of being woken at night by Zeb's flashbacks to the massacre of his people and staying silent about what he'd heard the next day, knowing Zeb's fear of being seen as anything other than strong and gruff. He remembers Rex's sunken face when they returned from Malachor without Ahsoka, his oldest friend and ally. He remembers Inquisitors breathing down his neck, blasters shooting in all directions, never knowing if you were going to live to see tomorrow, Kanan being engulfed by flames, Hera's despondent look and posture, Sabine's sob's as they flew away from the explosion, having to tell Zeb that Kanan was gone... and he was never coming back. Those nights are hard. They end with him waking up in a panicked sweat, unable to breath or move or do _anything._ Those are the nights he wishes for Hera's warm embrace or Kanan's kind words or _any_ kind of encouragement that things are going to be just fine because it all just seems so helpless. The following mornings it's hard to get up and carry on without revenge and darkness creeping into his mind, hard to keep away the anger he knows will only lead to more pain, hard to remember his teachings and _trust in the force._

Some nights are just visions and voices. It's Maul's voice, taunting him and calling him to the dark side. It's the Sith holocron convincing him that without the power of the dark-side he will fail. It's Vader's breath down his neck in the dark and no matter how many times he tells himself that _that_ is impossible now he can't shake the feeling of bring watched. It's strange scenes painted only out of pain, scenes of his friends suffering. It's battles he knows he's never seen and have never happened, crashing ships and smoldering ash, red blades being pushed through torsos. It's his parents, Hera, Kanan, Sabine, Zeb, Rex and Ahsoka letting him know that it's _his_ fault. All of their suffering leads back to _him_. Those nights are the worst, no competition. Those are the nights he ends up backed into a corner, scratching at the ground and trying to separate dreams from reality, clawing at his own skin just to remind himself that _he's real._ It's tears and sick and having to reach into the back of his mind _just_ to remember his own name because all that's at the forefront of his mind is _danger, danger, danger, run, run, run, get out, get out, GET OUT._ Those nights are pure fear. Those nights can last for weeks - even months - before he get's his head back together and continues forward.

Because that's the only direction he can really go, _forward_. Ezra Bridger learned long ago that you cant turn back the clock, no matter how many stars you wish on. You cant't bring back the dead, you don't get a do-over in fights against your enemies, there's no promise of tomorrow. All you can do is move forward and _hope._ Hope for a better tomorrow.


End file.
